The Lumberjack



Students Serving The Cal Poly Humboldt Campus and Community Since 1929

Category: Opinion

  • Personal Fave Mexican Places in HumCo

    by Steffi Puerto

    Growing up in the East Bay, specifically Oakland, I consider myself a foodie at heart. Food has always been significant to my identity, culture, relationships, and overall experience of enjoying life. My favorite memories have always been the ones where food has been involved. 

    I have lived in Humboldt County for a little over three years. Quickly, I was shocked to find out that the ethnic food here was hit or miss. I have spent a greater part of the last three years trying a variety of Mexican food that I enjoy best through my personal palate. 

    It seems like everyone has a variety of views on the best Mexican food in the area. Arcata residents who have come from every corner of California and even from out of state voice bold opinions of what they think is the best Mexican food. Some are valid, others should be reconsidered. 

    It’s one of my favorite questions to ask when I am hanging out with people, because I feel like I can get a good read on them based on their answers. Without a doubt, you’ll get a response like Rita’s or Hey Juans, which I personally would dismiss. Why would you actively participate in having olives, lettuce, and sour cream on your Mexican food? 

    So you might be wondering what Mexican food places I actually like. I have three excellent Mexican food trucks/restaurants that I would recommend to anyone who wants to enjoy some delicious food. 

    Let’s start off with Los Giles. It’s an Arcata classic. Personally, I hold Los Giles close to my heart because you can find them anywhere and everywhere. They satisfy your craving at local community or on-campus events, and even after a late night of drinking, outside Richard’s Goat. My go-to order usually consists of a California burrito de al pastor which is a burrito filled with sour cream, fries, pico de gallo, beans, rice, and the very sweet and savory al pastor. I also enjoy getting four tacos de carnitas con todo, which consists of diced onions, cilantro, and their green salsa and crispy carnitas. On the other hand, you can also never go wrong with an order of their famous steak fries: crinkle cut fries topped with sour cream, guacamole, pico de gallo, and cheese on top of their steak. Their food and ambiance are what make this place truly good. 

    Tacos del Gallo is a new gem that I discovered last spring. It’s a cute little black taco truck that parks outside of RMI outdoors right across from Eureka’s Broadway Theater. I personally love this place because it reminds me of the taco trucks from home. Thick grilled onions and slices of grilled jalapeños really add to the experience of enjoying my delicious street tacos. They also add a little bag of chips and homemade pico de gallo to really top it off. My go-to order would definitely have to be four tacos de al pastor with a delicious agua de tamarindo. They also have really good tortas, burritos, and a small yet delicious variety of agua frescas. The authenticity and friendliness of this food truck establishment are what truly make me enjoy my food. 

    Cocina Mariposa is another Eureka Mexican restaurant that I really enjoy visiting because they offer savory Michoacan style food and agua frescas of the day. They give you a side of bean dip and chips with your food. This location sits on the Eureka Municipal golf course. There’s the option to dine outdoors or inside as well as a to-go option. 

    I was introduced to this restaurant by my best friends who put me on to the place after hearing their various opinions and they were not wrong. I personally love to get al pastor street taco plate, a torta de carnitas, or a California burrito de al pastor. I enjoy that they offer an agua fresca of the day, because I know no matter which variety it is, it’ll be cold, refreshing, and sweet. I enjoy this place because it reminds me of summer: savory and vibrant flavors as well as enjoying it with the people I love the most. 

    Needless to say, these restaurants are my favorite in the county, because besides offering good food and service they are unique to themselves. I have enjoyed different aspects of food influences and vibe settings these places offer. It is what makes their establishments unique from one another. I would encourage anyone reading to try these restaurants out, by themselves or with a group of friends. Enjoy your food and the ambience of your company. Food is meant to be enjoyed and shared. 

    Los Giles 

    Follow them on Instagram @losgilestaqueria to stay up to date with their events

    Tacos del Gallo  

    1240 Broadway St, Eureka, CA 95501

    Monday – Saturday 10:00 am – 7:30 pm

    Cocina Mariposa 

    4750 Fairway Dr, Eureka, CA 95503

    Tuesday – Sunday 9:00 am – 6:00 pm

  • Humboldt college merch should be affordable for students

    by Alina Ferguson

    Cal Poly Humboldt, while having relatively affordable tuition and options for scholarships and financial aid, is still robbing its students blind with the cost of apparel, food and general items at campus stores.

    One of the ways the school robs its students is apparel. For students it costs an arm and a leg. The hoodies and tees on sale at campus stores are much too expensive for most students’ budgets. Students should be paying discounted prices for their items, as many struggle just to get by. Most students have a heavy course load, debts from tuition and living costs, and not a lot of time for work. 

    The school should be able to offer apparel to students if not for free, then at a much reduced cost. Consider all the other ways they are finding to screw us out of our money, all the options they have taken off the meal plan. Quick side rant, it used to be possible to get two milkshakes on one meal plan. Sounds unbelievable, huh? The school has stopped offering a myriad of items for their meal exchanges, limiting the amount of options students now have for the meals that are covered in the amount that they have already paid. 

    Students wearing merch are a sort of free advertisement for the school, like a sponsorship deal. Typically sponsorships include some sort of incentive, like free apparel to compensate the wearer for representing the brand.

    Since we, the students, are already paying tuition, living costs, and the cost for food, we are not getting anything for free. For representing, or sponsoring the school, we should at least get some free merch as with most sponsorships.

    This is not necessarily exclusive to Cal Poly Humboldt, as many schools charge students for apparel. The fact that students are being charged is not so much the issue, rather how much we are getting charged. It would be more tolerable if Cal Poly Humboldt offered merch for students at a reduced cost. 

    The simple answer or solution to this “non-issue” as many see it: don’t buy apparel. If it is too much money, you don’t have to buy it. But it is nice to be able to rep your school, to walk down the street flaunting that you attend a Cal Poly. I pay to go here, I’m smart enough to. It’s a nice feeling. The school should “pay it forward” and discount merch for students.

  • PSA: Mexican Independence Day does not equal Cinco de Mayo

    PSA: Mexican Independence Day does not equal Cinco de Mayo

    by Victoria Olsen

    Cal Poly Humboldt is an Hispanic Serving institution (HSI), so it is significant for students and faculty to be knowledgeable of these events. Latinx Heritage Month takes place from Sept. 15 to Oct. 15, acknowledging the time frame in which many Latin countries declared and gained independence.

    “Hispanic Heritage Month is a moment to recognize and honor the history of struggle of Latinx people in the United States. To recognize their achievements, their successes and their contributions to this nation,” said El Centro Coordinator Fernando Paz. 

    Former President Lyndon B. Johnson signed this Hispanic Heritage Week into effect that same Sept. of 1968 following Latin heritage being acknowledged in the Civil Rights Movement. Years later, former President Ronald Reagan officially changed it to Hispanic Heritage Month in Aug. of 1988.

    Sept. 15 marks the independence of Costa Rica, El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras and Nicaragua. Sept. 16 celebrates Mexico, and Chile independence day is Sept. 18. 

    Latinx Heritage is a month of reflection, celebrating culture and growth. It is important to acknowledge one of the biggest questions and debates in the Hispanic/Latinx community right now is between the preference for being called “Latinx” or “Hispanic.” 

    “It’s a part of an ongoing debate, and discussion that’s happening within our community, and currently the debate around Latinx is that it is a term that is elitist, though it strives to be more gender inclusive and more embracing of everybody from Latin American descent…,” said El Centro Coordinator, Fernando Paz. 

    Paz also recognized that the term “Latinx” still fails to be completely inclusive and that the term does not translate well to the other spoken Latin languages.

    José Juan Rodríguez Gutierrez is a student here at Cal Poly Humboldt and works in the El Centro office.

    “I think it’s important for a lot of us Latin people that have been in the U.S. throughout our life and maybe have felt that our people have been ignored in the way history is told, but this is a time for us to let them know we’ve been here,” said Gutierrez. “Aquí hemos estado y aquí estaremos.”

    Melissa Torres Esacalante is a student who enjoys spending time in El Centros office. 

    “It’s not very widely celebrated back home in the motherland, but like here, we kinda need to. We need to celebrate our accomplishments with what we’ve done here,” said Esaclante. 

    According to the U.S. The Department of Education, Hispanic Heritage Month this year is going to focus on the theme of “Building Prosperous and Healthy Communities.” Each week during the month will have a new goal or focus. 

    September 15: Hispanic Heritage Month Kick-Off Day 

    Week of September 19th: Jobs and the Economy  

    Week of September 26th: Climate   

    Week of October 3rd: Education and Investing in HSIs   

    Week of October 10th: Mental Health and Wellness  

    October 15: Last Day of Hispanic Heritage Month

    “We have this term called ‘La Cultura Cura,’ it translates to culture heals, and it’s exactly that principle that there are elements within our cultural matrix that help us heal and become better and stronger, ideals, values, beliefs, those kinds of things,” Paz said.

    People should spend this month recognizing the debates going on in Latin America. It is important to acknowledge the history and trauma of colonialism, and what we can do now to repair the damage.

  • What’s the point of Humboldt confessions?

    What’s the point of Humboldt confessions?

    by Victoria Olsen

    Anonymity: a real-life invisibility cloak. Students at Cal Poly Humboldt enjoy the freedom of online anonymous spaces by creating “confession pages” specifically for CPH students on various social media platforms. Students use these platforms to talk about professors, express frustration with university administration, freely give their opinions on other students, or just share random thoughts about the Humboldt experience. 

    I saw a post recently on an HSU confession page reminding students to go out and talk to people and make friends, because most of us are in the same lonely boat. I wondered why that person felt it needed to be an anonymous post; it was a harmless, even uplifting, statement. In instances like this one, it seems that the poster is using the page for its platform and audience rather than its built-in anonymity. 

    I don’t take any issue with students forming a community on anonymous platforms; posts like this one prove that the bad reputation of anonymous sites is partially undeserved. It becomes problematic when people use these platforms to bring attention to specific individuals without their knowledge or permission. I’ve witnessed this, and in my opinion, it’s where anonymous posting crosses the line.

    Whenever I see a post about someone being weird in the J, my initial thought is always, “was that me?” I’m sure other people think the same thing, and then we walk around campus paranoid and uncomfortable because no one wants to be the next one someone is making fun of behind the protection of anonymity.

    If you search for “HSU confessions” on Twitter, some old tweets dating from 2009 to 2013 come up. At that point an HSU confessions page on Facebook was already active and popular. From the tweets, it doesn’t appear that people were particularly happy with it. Some people felt that they were being personally called out, while others were entertained. Today, students carry on the tradition of confession pages via Instagram. At the moment there are two accounts where students post mostly random “confessions,” opinions, and feelings. Another site that I noticed growing in popularity lately has been YikYak, an anonymous messaging app where users create and view posts within a 5 mile radius.

    I remember in middle school and high school people would use anonymous platforms like  ASKfm to “rate” each other on personality or looks. A popular trend was to solicit a “tbh” (to be honest) or “ngl” (not gonna lie) where commenters would give their honest opinions. Sometimes people were kind and commented on how good looking and nice people were. Other times you’d see people take the opportunity afforded by anonymity to call someone ugly and just generally bully them.

    I’ve noticed that most anonymous posts are related to burning opinions students have about Cal Poly Humboldt, whether they concern the university itself, the faculty, or other students. But the thoughts being voiced online are not ones I think the anonymous posters would own up to in real life–they can be hateful, shameful, or embarrassing. This results in an especially toxic online community on many anonymous platforms. My overall problem with anonymous confessions is that there is a huge lack of social accountability, which encourages antisocial and sometimes downright cruel behavior. We stress the importance of being aware of cyberbullying, but when it comes to anonymous platforms it almost feels like we collectively let it slide to some degree because there is no name to instantly and directly trace those harmful comments back to. 

    Maybe I’m assuming the worst in people. There is some humor in a post every now and then. These sites are not created for the purpose of being harmful, it just comes with the territory of anonymity. But I would encourage students using these sites to really think before they post, and ask themselves why they feel it’s necessary to be anonymous. And to anyone reading them, don’t assume it’s you they’re talking about.

  • Disorganized Canvas pages impede student learning

    Disorganized Canvas pages impede student learning

    by Oden Taylor

    It’s Friday afternoon. Your friends are going out tonight and you want to make sure you’ve completed all of your homework for the week. You check your Canvas “To-Do List” and see you’ve completed everything, so you decide to go out and party.

    The next morning, you get a notification on your phone: “Assignment Graded– 0/100.” The familiar rush of anxiety and dread fills you from your head to your toes, and you sink to the floor wondering, “How could this have happened?”

    If you can relate to this, you’re not alone. Navigating Canvas at Cal Poly Humboldt can be a real nightmare. Because there is no set standard for how professors’ Canvas pages must look, and Canvas training is not mandatory, many class Canvas pages are not designed in an efficient or accessible way.

    When I started my first term as a Cal Poly Humboldt student this semester I was shocked by the state of my various class Canvas pages. At the community college I attended previously, all Canvas pages were required to follow a very specific format that prioritized accessibility. 

    Professors had to complete mandatory training on how to properly use all the functions of Canvas, and had to have all of their lecture materials created before the semester started. Professors were required to ensure that their materials were accessible for students who are deaf, hard-of-hearing, or low vision. The way that Canvas pages are set up can also significantly impact students with learning disabilities or those that lack prior tech experience.

    Fortunately the solution to this problem has a simple fix. Professors should be paid to do mandatory Canvas training, and all Canvas pages should follow a clear set of accessibility guidelines.  

    To start, professors can upload all of their materials directly into Canvas before the semester starts. Students deserve a clear picture of what the semester looks like and should never be waiting on professors to upload their class materials. 

    Professors should be sure that all of their assignments show up in the To-Do List portion of Canvas with due dates. Making sure to use modules for each week’s assignments can also help to clarify expectations for students with regard to course pacing.

    Professors should hold themselves to the same standards that they expect of their students when creating class materials. Students can’t give feedback in the same way a professor can, which puts the impetus on the administration to survey students’ needs and make appropriate changes.

    Standardizing class Canvas pages will not only prevent frustration and missed assignments, it will also minimize the amount of confused emails teachers receive from their students. With a clearer understanding of what is being asked of them, students will do better in classes.

    Implementing these small changes works. I have seen it done, and it saves everyone a lot of trouble in the long run. Cal Poly Humboldt pays thousands of dollars per year for students and faculty to have access to Canvas—shouldn’t we use it properly?

  • Lack of communication between maintenance and students leads to awkward moments in the Cal Poly Humboldt dorms

    by Alina Ferguson

    Submitting a maintenance request is a mysterious process here at Cal Poly Humboldt. The procedure goes something like this: submit a request and two weeks later, someone will bang loudly on your door. Do you get confirmation emails? Not in my experience. 

    Unlike other rent-paying, contracting-holding people, students do not get full tenant rights, which normally stipulate 24 hour notice before repairs. My complaint is not with the maintenance staff, but rather with the lack of a system for notifying students about maintenance in their dorm.

    Last semester, my roommate was coming up the hill to Creekview and saw some man in our room! Naturally, she was freaked out—who was this strange man, and why was he in our room? As it turns out, he was there to fix the window. 

    I worked online from my dorm every Saturday from 9 am to 1 pm, and one day someone barged into my room during a work call to “fix the lights.” I asked if it needed to be done at that exact moment, and the maintenance man responded with “yeah.” So, inconvenienced and with all my other roommates still sleeping, I did an hour of work in my bathroom. My laptop was precariously perched on the toilet, my phone was scrunched against my ear and my shoulder, and I was sitting cross legged for an hour. My feet fell asleep, so I had to crawl back to my room like some horror movie villain, hair in my face and phone in my mouth, grunting from the pinpricks in my feet. 

    This semester, I submitted a request to put a bar across my top bunk. A week later, someone banged on our front door while my roommate was taking a nap and my housemates were out. What could we do? Well, he said he would come back in half an hour, and an hour later, he was back. 

    Though, it’s not always that they take weeks. My roommates and I put in a request for our microwave and electrical outlet to be fixed and that same day, someone arrived. I came home to the door ajar and the microwave disassembled like a butcher had just gone to town on it, tools scattered across the countertop. I tiptoed to my room, and my roommate muttered, “Maintenance is here to fix the microwave and electrical.” I asked if she had gotten an email or call beforehand, and of course the answer was no.

    The maintenance team themselves are not at fault. The staff here do a brilliant job; they work efficiently and are always friendly. They work hard to make sure that all our requests are fulfilled and they do an excellent job of repairing whatever is broken. 

    But I have some ideas to improve the maintenance process. There needs to be a system for alerting students to maintenance work in their living spaces. Normally, as a tenant, someone who pays rent and has a rental contract, you are entitled to 24 hours notice when anyone is entering your unit or room for non-emergencies. Student tenants should be granted the same courtesy. I pay to live here, and I signed a contract; we all did. 

    Sending an email is all it takes. Just send me an email with the name of the maintenance worker, the approximate time they will arrive, and what they will be fixing. While I understand that there are a lot of students here, I believe we need more communication between dorm residents and staff. It is about respect for both the students and maintenance staff. 

  • It’s time to axe the Lumberjack

    It’s time to axe the Lumberjack

    by Oden Taylor

    Pioneer, prospector, lumberjack— what do they all have in common? A significant role in the colonization of North America and a place as a California State University mascot. CSU mascots are rife with cultural insensitivity and, at times, blatant racism— if you don’t believe me, just google the San Diego State University Aztec Warrior. 

    The names of CSU campus newspapers also nearly always correspond with the school mascot. For example, CSU East Bay’s mascot is Pioneer Pete and the school paper, “The Pioneer.”   

    At Cal Poly Humboldt, “The Lumberjack,” both as a mascot and the name of our paper, symbolizes white supremacy and colonization. It is time for a change, starting with us. The Lumberjack must change its name to continue the removal of white power structures and symbols from indigenous land.

    Lumberjacks worked alongside prospectors during the gold rush, making way for new settlers to build towns and ravage the land for its resources. After the gold rush ended, lumberjacks cleared old-growth redwood forests well into the twentieth century.  

    In fact, only 5% of the original old-growth redwood forest stands from Southern Oregon to Central California, according to the Save the Redwoods League. 

    There have been many name changes taking place across Humboldt county, from the Gutswurrak Student Activity Center here on campus to the name restoration of Sue-meg State Park. This change comes after nearly 170 years of being called “Patrick’s Point” for Patrick Beegan, a private land owner and accused murderer of Indigenous people, including a Yurok boy. 

    As of 2018, CSU Long Beach abandoned its longtime mascot, Prospector Pete, for Elbee the Shark. Shortly after CSU East Bay claimed to do the same, saying goodbye to Pioneer Pete. Four years later they have yet to choose a new mascot, according to their website. 

    Unfortunately, despite the example set by other schools and the opportunity presented by an expensive rebrand, Cal Poly Humboldt did not find it necessary to retire the Lumberjack, telling El Leñador in March that there are no current plans to change the mascot.

    Though Long Beach has chosen a new mascot, neither campus changed the name of their newspaper. They remain Long Beach’s Daily Forty-Niner and East Bay’s The Pioneer. This lack of meaningful change promotes white supremacy in newsrooms, including ours. 

    We must move beyond just acknowledging the land we occupy and think critically about the messages we distribute and the symbols we use on it. 

    All CSU campus newspapers should reconsider what they call themselves and why. Does your publication’s name honor and represent your campus community? 

    It’s time we axed the Lumberjack. If the administration isn’t willing to do it, the change must start with us

  • Why am I paying $50 to do my homework?

    by Angel Barker

    When I sign up for classes, I make sure to see if there are required textbooks so I can budget what the post-tuition fees are going to be for each semester. However, one variable I did not take into consideration is instructors who make students pay for software to do their homework.

    For my 100-level Human Biology course, the Student Center said there was no required text. However, once I had enrolled and the course began, to do the homework we had to pay for an “online and interactive homework platform,” a website that randomizes questions and gives you unlimited attempts to get the answer right. 

    Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the unlimited attempts. However, I don’t love having to pay $50 to do my homework for one class. That $50 had to come out of my budget for food and gas. I had to pay $50 to pass the class, because the homework turned in using the software is 32.6% of the overall grade.

    Why are instructors allowed to do this? Do they benefit from having us pay for that software? Or is it just more convenient for them? Either way, it is more than inconvenient for students. We are the ones having to front the money to literally just access homework questions.

    Why couldn’t the polytechnic money help create a program supporting equitable access for students? Or just buying the necessary software? Why are these costs not disclosed before signing up for the class, like textbooks? These fees hurt students.

    When I attended UC Davis, there was a program called Equitable Access. For $169 each quarter, undergraduate students were guaranteed all of their course materials, like textbooks (printed and digital), online softwares, lab manuals, and more. That program was helpful when planning what I was going to have to spend. There were no hidden class fees like what I’ve experienced this term.

    Instructors like mine do not seem to care about how expensive it is to attend college. This is a basic general education course; a regular textbook and a Canvas multiple choice homework “quiz” would suffice. $50 may not seem like a lot of money. However for students like me who are paying their own way through school, it makes a larger impact that has a domino effect.

  • Labor Day 2022

    Labor Day 2022

    by Camille Delany

    America is nearly unique in our celebration of Labor Day in September. We’re joined on the first Monday in September by Canada alone, while over 80 nations across the world hold their equivalent celebrations on May 1. The distinctive origins of the day were never, to my memory, discussed over the course of my public school education or during the hometown parades I’d attended as a child, leaving me surprised to learn the complicated history of Labor Day.

    If you enjoy weekends, a largely labor-free childhood, or having any free time to speak of, you owe a debt of gratitude to labor organizers of centuries past. Throughout the 1800s, the work day was typically dawn-til-dusk—in trials dating to around the turn of the 19th century, manufacturing laborers were found to be working as many as 18 hours in a day. Early unions focused on raising wages for laborers as well as reducing hours and defending workers’ right to organize. By the close of the century, the international labor movement had coalesced around the fight for the 8-hour workday.

    To this end, labor and trade unions across the nation went on strike on May 1, 1886. No city was more active in the movement than industrialized Chicago, where masses of laborers laid down their tools and exited their workplaces. However, their act of civil disobedience was met with  brutal backlash from bosses, who in the days following the May 1 strike joined forces with the police to violently disband peacefully protesting workers. 

    In the ensuing clashes, which came to be known as the Haymarket Incident, at least four civilians were shot to death by police and many others were injured. Police also suffered casualties, and in a trial that would later be considered a miscarriage of justice, seven union leaders were sentenced to death for a bombing that took place during the fallout, even though only two of those charged had even been present. Four were executed the following year; two had their sentence commuted to life in prison; one died in jail. In 1893, the governor of Illinois would conclude that the trial was not fair, and pardon the surviving defendants.

    The Haymarket Incident was one reason for celebrating International Workers’ Day on May 1, which remains the Labor Day for most of the world. It would also result in the declaration of two holidays in the US: Labor Day, on the first Monday in September, and Loyalty Day (also known as Americanization Day) on May 1. I hadn’t heard of that last one, either, but it turns out that while the rest of the world is rallying for workers’ rights and celebrating the accomplishments of laborers on the anniversary of the Haymarket Incident, US presidents give an annual proclamation extolling loyalty to America. 

    Loyalty Day was proposed during the Red Scare of the 1920s and adopted officially in the ‘50s with 36 U.S. Code § 115, which designates it as, “a special day for the reaffirmation of loyalty to the United States and for the recognition of the heritage of American freedom.” The holiday’s raison d’etre is obvious: to counter any demonstration of solidarity with workers of the world on May Day.

    Nevertheless, this past weekend we celebrated the American worker with parades, camping trips, and retail discounts. In fact, the latter seems to be the most prevalent angle in press coverage of this Labor Day; the majority of headlines claim to aggregate “Labor Day Sales” from big box stores or online retailers. Fittingly, the contemporary legacy of the September Labor Day does not honor production or labor. On this day conceived to quash solidarity between American workers and the international organized labor movement, we celebrate the consumption of goods.

  • Upperclassmen, your jealousy is warranted

    Upperclassmen, your jealousy is warranted

    by Elise Fero

    Our lives were in empty dark rooms in the dorms, where sitting in the halls and talking was prohibited. Masks were to be on everywhere. Even the volleyball court outside the building couldn’t be used. We couldn’t be social. The only life we saw on campus was deer.

    This was my experience of freshman year during 2020-2021. Living in a tiny dorm with two bunk beds but no one to fill them; just my emotional support cat Winnie Fig and I, away from home for the first time in a new state. Online classes left the campus completely dead. No one played guitars in the music quad, no one rushed to class on their skateboard, and no one ate in the Depot. 

    Now it’s the Fall of 2022 and here come the incoming freshmen, ready to go to classes in person, to meet new people who aren’t hidden behind masks. What a different experience than my own freshman year. I can’t help but feel as if I have been cheated out of an exponential time in my life. Someone tell me why this is fair!

    Maybe I’m being ridiculous. People died in this pandemic and it affected other lives way more than mine, but I know plenty of others who feel just like I do. Our incredibly expensive education that we spent in our dorm rooms didn’t give us the classic “college experience” that others received before us (and after us.)

    I always imagined college to be the best years of my life, but the pandemic forced us all into silence, into being more antisocial than many of us were to begin with. 

    It’s not as if I didn’t get to have some classic experiences. Even after having COVID-19 during my first week of freshman year, I still found myself on the Lumberjack newspaper staff. During that semester we created a family inside the department, even though we only knew each other through a screen. 

    I have since changed my major multiple times, but the journalism program was my savior when the world shut down. For that I am eternally grateful.

    Now an environmental studies major, I still work for the Lumberjack. I am also starting to  meet people in my new major in-person– just like the freshmen are. 

    My jealousy is a bit extreme, I must admit. These new students are getting the experience I dreamed of. They can go to events without fear. They can dance through the halls of their dorms laughing and talking with other people. They can meet people! My gosh, they can meet people. What an advantage they have, which I didn’t get until this year. 

    It was hard to make friends and I often felt very alone. I remember the only times we saw our friends in those early days were when we snuck into the forest to say hello with our masks on. How scandalous! 

    I’m so happy for the freshmen, I truly am. They get the experience they deserve. And while they lost some of high school, I still think they’re getting the better end of this deal. I wish I missed parts of high school instead! I mean, I hated high school. 

    I know so many people who met the love of their life in college, a hope I always had as a kid. How could I do that while fully online? I just have to believe everything happens for a reason. The freshmen? They have endless opportunities for friends and love and joy in college social life. I wish I had that, too. 

    Let me express my gratitude as well. My freshman and sophomore years were still beautiful experiences that I wouldn’t trade for the world. But for those upperclassmen feeling jealous as you watch freshmen embark on their college journey, you aren’t alone. I promise, you aren’t alone.

  • Students are hounding for housing

    by Ione Dellos

    If you are on campus this semester to physically pick up this copy of the Lumberjack, then you know how rough the housing market is in Humboldt. On-campus housing is at capacity for the 2022-2023 academic year, leaving students hard-pressed to find housing elsewhere. 

    The solution our glorious polytechnic has come up with for solving the housing crisis includes housing students at the Comfort Inn in Arcata, where the familiar “HOUSING MOVE-IN” signs can be seen planted outside… the Patriot gas station on Giuntoli? For incoming students, will  moving them into a hotel for the year really give them the classic Humboldt experience? How will they go on a campus tour to the woods at 10 pm to engage in some completely legal activities in the forest? Will they still be able to experience the joy of traversing half a mile every morning from their dorm to the JGC for some subpar tater tots for breakfast? 

    There’s the additional hardship of inexperience in finding housing among the college age demographic, as this is many people’s first time leaving home, or really living on their own. I was just living on campus last semester and eating donuts from the J for breakfast every morning, now I’m expected to magically be responsible enough to get an apartment? If you don’t have previous rental experience, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, and there are some predatory property management companies in Humboldt that capitalize on that. With the reality of mainly in-person classes for this school year, the pressure to find housing near campus is on like never before. 

    Don’t even get me started on owning furniture! You will never realize how expensive a couch is until you have to buy one for yourself. Tables are also very expensive, but I could talk about how expensive furniture is all day. When hunting for housing, furniture is the least of your worries. Having an actual apartment to put it all in is priority number one, and with the aforementioned problems with the Humboldt housing market, it can be a tall task to tackle. 

    There are some helpful resources that the university does provide, like the off-campus housing liaison, who provides one-on-one support and advice to help you on your journey to find housing. Also, in case you abruptly lose housing or cannot find any in time, Humboldt does provide the Emergency Housing Program. This program is subject to availability, and they can be reached at dos@humboldt.edu. 

    Now, this isn’t supposed to be all doom and gloom. While it can feel impossible at times to find housing, it will only feel that way for a while. With the help of another roommate to scream with when the third property management company you’ve reached out to doesn’t get back to you, a few co-signers to make up for that 750-point credit score you do not have at twenty years old, and a small miracle, you too can find housing!

  • The trouble with true crime

    The trouble with true crime

    by Camille Delany

    As a high schooler, I’d often listen to podcasts while jogging in the country by my house, or when walking to school. As I searched for compelling entertainment in the nascent medium, one genre rose to the top: true crime. It wasn’t just me, either. The boom seemed to begin with the success of NPR’s Serial in 2014, after which podcast platforms became increasingly dominated by the genre. Rehashings of cold cases, mysterious disappearances, and serial killings became objects of public fascination, along with the real life stories of cults, shootings, and disasters. 

    True crime has long enjoyed mainstream popularity in the form of books and television, but the rise of podcasts and streaming has brought it to a wider audience than ever. However, my experience as an avid listener of true crime podcasts was not entirely positive, and I’ve also recently heard peers discuss negative aspects of their interest in crime stories.

    A friend who used to be a huge fan of a few specific true crime podcasts says she’s going to cut back on her listening, as it increases her anxiety. This parallels my experience; when I was a dedicated listener of crime podcasts, I noticed myself feeling paranoid and less willing to interact with people outside of my immediate circles.

    The true crime genre isn’t populated with tales of wage theft or corporate environmental destruction, even though crimes like these have enormous impacts and their perpetrators are rarely brought to justice. Even if we narrow our focus to violent crime, true crime narratives rarely follow the most common type of that, either.

    FBI homicide data for 2019 shows that in most cases of violent crime, both perpetrator and victim are male, and that they typically know each other. Trends like these aren’t apparent if your knowledge of crime statistics is informed by a true crime podcast feed, as I notice is increasingly common. 

    In my experience discussing the genre with friends and acquaintances, true crime consumption is linked with an idea of “research.” Often an enthusiasm for the genre is coupled with a belief that the information presented over the course of the narrative will aid in one’s survival. Engaging with it can become a vicious cycle. People who already feel themselves to be vulnerable are attracted to the genre, and the repetitive narratives of assault and kidnapping increase their anxiety. This keeps them returning in the hopes of gleaning insight into avoiding victimization. 

    However, it’s unlikely that consuming true crime media does much to improve the personal safety of women, in part because the type of crimes most frequently profiled are vanishingly rare, and exceedingly difficult to prevent. Women are already conditioned to fear strangers, even as, statistically speaking, acquaintances and domestic partners are far more dangerous. 

    The popular true crime podcast My Favorite Murder signs off with the glib tagline, “Stay sexy, don’t get murdered.” This about sums up the attitude of many true crime creators and audiences with which I take issue. The process of consuming a true crime narrative to reassure yourself that you could have seen the “warning signs” and avoided death, kidnapping, or sexual assault is a form of victim-blaming. 

    Also, the genre’s commodification of tragedy and violence is uncomfortable at best and, at worst, damaging to victims and their families. I’m not asking anyone to quit listening to their favorite podcast, just to think more critically about the media they engage with. What structures are supported by it? How does it make you feel?

  • The blood quantum conundrum

    The blood quantum conundrum

    by Matthew Taylor

    Over a century ago, two young women hid in the vegetation alongside the bay waters surrounding the small island of Tuluwat. Lying just off the coast of Eureka, Tuluwat is also known as Jaroujiji in Soulatluk, the language of the Wiyot Tribe. Those women’s English names were Matilda James and Nancy Spear. They were two of the few survivors of the Feb. 26, 1860 Wiyot Massacre. The massacre took place the night of the tribe’s most sacred of holy days, the World Renewal ceremony. Over 200 Wiyot people died that night at the hands of white Humboldt settlers. Nancy Spear and her sister Matilda James are my ancestors. I am a descendant of the Wiyot people, and yet I’m also white and thus experience white privilege.

    When my mother was little, my grandpa would often take her to the local powwows here in Humboldt. My grandpa is a registered member of the Wiyot Tribe and carries within him the history of our family’s struggles – a long history of generational trauma, mental illness, and alcoholism.

    My grandma, a non-Native person, was embarrassed to go to these events and cultural celebrations. She felt that because neither her husband nor children looked Native enough, they didn’t belong in that space. My mother and I grew up completely separated from that part of our family. Even today we are reluctant to reach back out to the tribe, not because we want government benefits or even full membership, but because we wish to gain what our family has lost – culture, history, heritage.

    Eddie Carpenter, a fellow reporter at the Lumberjack and registered member of the Hoopa Tribe, has had similar difficulties as a white-assumed Native person. Carpenter prefers not to be labeled as white-passing due to the term’s colonial history.

    “Despite being a tribal member I get mistaken a lot for being a white person,” Carpenter said. “As a child I kind of got bullied a little bit for being mistaken for that identity. Most of it was little microaggressions such as, ‘you don’t look native to me.’”

    We do differ in some experiences, though. Unlike Carpenter, my grandpa and his sister are the only members of my family who still make the federal minimum “blood quantum.” Also unlike Carpenter, I didn’t get the opportunity to be raised within my culture.

    “White-passing is an outdated term,” Carpenter said. “Because it is based on the ‘one drop rule’ of the Black/white binary categories within U.S. politics.”

    There is a lot of debate within Native American communities on the usefulness of blood quantum minimums. Some believe it helps to deter white people with minimal Native ancestry from taking government benefits that they often don’t need, while others, like Carpenter and I, believe that it is a harmful colonial system that has historically erased – and continues to erase – the existence and power of Native people. However, there is no doubt that Carpenter and I experience significant privilege due to our perceived whiteness. This is a truth we do not deny, and one that we try to actively be aware of when in Native spaces.

    “I do not self identify by colonial tools from imposed social structures that were used to conquer and divide my people from the inside out,” Carpenter said.

    I don’t wish to take up space that is not mine to take. But I don’t wish to deny a history that my family has nor reject a people, the Wiyot people, that are part of me.

    The experiences and connection that the Wiyot people have to this land is represented within my family. We are still healing from our generational trauma and we are still deeply in love with the land we now call Humboldt. In the years to come, my hope is to bring my family back into the community and to use my resources, connections and skills to give back to the tribe that gave me my mother, my grandfather, my great grandmother, and my life.

  • Insane Clown Posse has been misunderstood

    by Cheyenne Wise

    So many pro-Trump bootlicking racists think that Insane Clown Posse (ICP), formed by Shaggy 2 Dope and Violent J, is a band that speaks to their ideology and stands for the same beliefs. Some people perceive fans of ICP to be synonymous with white rural racists in this country. However, Juggalos—a term of endearment among fans, akin to Taylor Swift fans being called Swifties—and ICP have always preached inclusivity and freedom of expression.

    ICP is against racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia and the destruction of civil rights. They even sat down with Chris Hansen to talk about their mutual hatred for sexual predators. Who wouldn’t want to hang out with Chris Hansen?

    They have fought for years to be seen and heard as valid, especially when the FBI labeled them as a violent gang. Juggalos come from all walks of life, from poor to rich, from all religions and backgrounds. If you are a Juggalo, you’re family.

    A self proclaimed Juggalo attacked a gay bar in 2006. In response, ICP’s manager Alex Abbiss said, “It’s quite obvious that this guy had no clue what being a Juggalo is all about. If anyone knows anything at all about ICP, then you know that they have never, ever been down or will be down with any racist or bigotry bullshit. In my opinion, the perpetrator of this crime committed these acts not because he was a Juggalo, but because he was a neo-Nazi. He subscribed to an ideology of racism and bigotry, and was quite clearly, in my opinion, out of his mind.”

    While they aren’t full-on political, they are vocal in what they hate and what they do to people they don’t like. In their 2015 song “Confederate Flag,” they really let people know their thoughts on the rebel flag and the people who wear it.

    I say fuck your rebel flag/ Out here pretending like you ain’t offendin’/ I say fuck your rebel flag/ You redneck judges with racist grudges/ I say fuck your rebel flag/ If you gotta tattoo, I’m aimin’ at you/I say fuck your rebel flag/You get punched in your faces reppin’ the racists

    Even before that, in the 1990s, they were singing:

    The country we live in was built by slaves/ Beat down and murdered and stuffed in their graves/ You put a slave owner on the one dollar bill/ And you want to know why I KILL PEOPLE!

    ICP took to selling a new batch of t-shirts in 2020 that were originally sold in the early ‘90s. It’s a Juggalo tearing and burning a Confederate flag with the words “Fuck Your Rebel Flag” on the back. They brought it back from the demands of their fans from the devastating events in 2020 with the killings of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor and many others. Wearing it pisses off the right people and makes for great conversations with those that love ICP and those that love burning the rebel flag.

    While hip-hop/horrorcore mosh pit energy music might bit much for a lot of people, you have to admit putting out music that screams what they think so loudly is pretty cool. Maybe you’ve thought about some of ICP’s lyrics in your head and agreed with them but would never say it out loud. Maybe you’ve thought about picking up a heavy object and just so happening to swing it near a known sexual predator.

    I think the world could do with a little ICP in their lives. They are inclusive, body-positive, and LGBTQ+ safe. They don’t care about your bank balance and they stick up for all Juggalos no matter their background. Check out wikiHow’s How to Be a Juggalo: 12 Steps for more information.

  • Why do Cypress residents need an All Access meal plan?

    by Shane Jarvie

    I find it extremely redundant that Cypress residents are required to own an All Access meal plan. When I’ve asked school officials why they’re needed, they’ve just responded, “Cypress residents are required to have one of the All Access meal plans. Upperclassmen living areas that do not require a meal plan are College Creek and Campus Apartments, both of which have shared kitchen areas.”

    I’m a junior who’s lived on campus for three years now, and Cypress has the best kitchen out of every residence hall I’ve seen. Yes, even better than the one in College Creek apartments. Having lived in College Creek apartments as a sophomore, I’ve found that Cypress has more counter space and many more cabinets for storage space. The Cypress kitchen has offered my suitemates and I enough room and resources to cook for 20+ people once a week for Cypress eighth floor’s “family dinners,” where both sides of the floor come together for a weekly feast.

    A suite on Cypress can house up to twelve students, so I’d understand if we were required to have a meal plan due to the number of suitemates who share the kitchen. However, I can’t understand why we’re required to have an All Access meal plan.

    As a student working in the housing department as a Resident Student Services Assistant, I’ve had the opportunity to study each housing option and meal plan that the school offers. The more I learn, the less it makes sense that Cypress suites require an All Access meal plan.

    For anyone who isn’t aware how the on-campus meal plan system works, here’s a quote directly from the Meal Plans page on our campus housing website: “All living areas require a meal plan except College Creek and Campus Apartments. Residents of the Hill, Canyon, Cypress and Creekview Suites are required to have one of the All Access meal plans. Residents of Creekview Apartments are required to have any one of the meal plans.”

    The cheapest All Access meal plan is the 5-day All Access plan. It’s $5,000 per academic year, and contains all access meals to the J five days a week, including 300 Flex dollars and 66 or 62 meal exchanges per semester. (The housing website says 66, the dining website says 62.)

    One of the alternative meal plans that I’ll be using as a comparison is the Lumberjack 125. This meal plan that Cypress residents don’t have access to costs $3,500 per academic year, provides 125 meals in the J (which is honestly still more than enough J food for me), has 525 flex dollars, and 31 meal exchanges per semester.

    As someone who isn’t impressed with the food that Chartwells has to offer at the J, I’d much rather have the Lumberjack 125, which has 225 more flex dollars and costs $1,500 less per year!

    If I can’t convince school officials that Cypress residents should have access to the other meal plans available, I at least want an adequate answer to why we shouldn’t.

  • Our Flag Means Death gives the gays everything we wanted

    Our Flag Means Death gives the gays everything we wanted

    by Sophia Escudero

    In episode five of Our Flag Means Death, the two leads share a moment under the moonlight. Stede gently folds a piece of fabric that Ed’s mother had given him and tucks it neatly into a pocket of his waistcoat.

    “You wear fine things well,” he says, tenderly, and Ed looks up at him with nothing short of adoration in his eyes. He leans in, then stops himself, and as the two part ways they look back at each other, both clearly wanting more but unable to bring themselves to voice it.

    That’s pretty gay, I thought to myself, but I didn’t dare hope that this scene was intended as anything beyond bromance.

    I grew up on Tumblr as a queer kid at the height of Superwholock, reblogging edits of Emma and Regina from Once Upon a Time looking longingly at each other and watching conspiracy videos about how, if you really read between the lines, the BBC are totally going to make Johnlock canon in the next season of Sherlock. I believed that the new Star Wars trilogy would give us gay Jedi, and the MCU would give us gay superheroes. Eventually, this hope faded. Each new season of Sherlock was worse, each “first gay Disney character” was less relevant to the plot than the last, and every video I saw from a con featured actors and writers mocking fans in the audience for daring to ask if there would be queer characters.

    I grew to accept that any show that was not explicitly marketed as being about coming out or facing homophobia would ever have a central queer romance. Any scraps I got would be something confirmed on Twitter or by an actor in an AMA and the void would have to be filled by fanfiction.

    When I saw that Taika Waititi was producing a comedy about pirates, I was all in. I was pleasantly surprised when a side character was revealed to be nonbinary and used they/them pronouns. Frankly, my bar for LGBT representation in media is subterranean. If a single character is canonically queer, doesn’t die and is not treated as a joke by the narrative, I will embrace the work wholeheartedly. I don’t ask for much, but I still rarely get more than a “wait and see.”

    Every episode was tailor-made to convince me that this was a love story, but I refused to be tricked so easily. When these characters were found in suggestive scenarios, I accepted it as a joke, and when they shared moments of tenderness and emotional vulnerability, I accepted that they were just really good friends. Even when the cast and crew said, verbatim, “this is a love story,” I was certain they meant it in the nebulous way that a buddy comedy is a love story, and that if I read into it I was a stupid, greedy little homosexual trying to make pop culture gay. Hell, I made it to the ninth episode, where they kiss each other on the lips and make a plan to run away together, still half-convinced that this was some kind of friendship kiss found only in advanced queerbaiting.

    It shouldn’t be shocking to me that queer people exist in television and movies. As a queer person, I should know that we do. Yet, years of media telling me otherwise had convinced me that maybe I was wrong. It has been over a month since the season finale aired, and I haven’t recovered from the sheer impossibility of seeing a romance between two men as central to the plot in a show about something other than queer pain.

    These characters are in love. They kiss, they hold hands, they exist outside of subtext and punchlines. Some jaded part of me thinks that a second season must end in death and suffering, but the inner 14-year-old that was hopeful enough to suffer through four seasons of Sherlock dares to believe that maybe, just maybe, gay people can be happy outside of fanfiction.

  • Masking mental illness is a privilege

    Masking mental illness is a privilege

    by Lex Valtenbergs

    I could tell that the woman lingering at the bus stop was mentally ill within the first few moments of speaking to her, although it wasn’t my place to surmise what mental illness she suffered from.

    She asked me a question about the bus schedule and muttered something aloud as if in reply, but not to me. When her eyes met mine again, she blurted, “Oh!” as if she forgot I was there.

    My initial reaction was to fear her; I didn’t understand the inner workings of her mind nor their outward manifestations. I perceived her as volatile and therefore threatening.

    At that time, I was also going through a protracted depressive episode marked by the distinctive mistrust and self-sabotaging tendencies that are all too common in borderline personality disorder. As a result, I had little to no verve to engage with her.

    In our own respective ways we were unmasked.

    The difference between her and myself is that I have the privilege to mask, or hide the symptoms of my mental illness to the best of my ability. She’s always visible; not by choice but by circumstance.

    Ironically, my masking urge to ‘help’ in some way and assuage her symptoms that brought me discomfort was snuffed out by my own unmasked symptoms. I was defying the neurotypical script and the internalized ableism – discrimination against people with disabilities, mentally ill and neurodivergent people – that came with it.

    I got on the bus and sat down, trying to push away the dread and discomfort that were triggered by the brief interaction that I had with the mentally ill stranger at the bus stop.

    As if being summoned by telepathy, the woman appeared at the open back door of the bus and asked me another question that I didn’t have an answer to. Just before the back door slid shut, she snuck inside the bus without paying at the front and sat down across from me.

    For the next half hour or so, she had an ongoing dialogue with no one in particular, constantly shifted in her seat, and ripped up a handful of white paper straw covers from a fast food restaurant.

    At one point her eyes wandered to mine and she asked me, point-blank, “Are you okay?”

    I was baffled by her lucidity. I curtly replied, “I’m good,” even though I wasn’t. She didn’t push me like I feared she would.

    At the last northbound bus stop in Eureka, she abruptly stood up from her seat. She left a pair of brown moccasin boots under her seat. As she passed by me, she gently touched my shoulder and said, “I love you.”

    The physical contact was unexpected but not entirely unwelcome. When she told me that she loved me – a misplaced but sincere disclosure – I felt the burning touch of shame press firmly inward. What were the people around us were thinking? Would they associate me with her?

    It didn’t matter, I consoled myself. I always try to deconstruct any ableist narratives that crop up in my mind. Then I learn from it and strive not to repeat it again.

    If we dare to overcome our fear of judgement, we are more prepared to dig through the other discriminatory narratives that are ingrained in us.

    She turned around. “Could you be a dear and grab my boots for me?”

    I cynically inferred that she left her boots on purpose just so I could get them for her, but I realized that I couldn’t be certain. Even if I was, her intention wasn’t malicious. I stooped down to grab them, and brought them out to her.

    It felt like we understood each other as I handed her the boots. She took her boots from my hands, and then she was gone.

    I almost cried as I sat in silence, my heart twinging painfully with every second the bus pulled away.

    I am mentally ill. I am broken. I am whole, but not seamless. The woman on the bus couldn’t seal her cracks as well as I can, and that’s a privilege that weighs heavily on me.

  • Luddites aren’t who you think they are

    by Carlos Pedraza

    The Luddites emerged in the early 1800s, claiming to follow craftsman and folk hero Ned Ludd in expressing the rage of craftsmen and other workers who felt threatened by industrialization. Today, Luddite is used as an insult for technophobes, but the real Luddites didn’t hate technology. They wanted to protect their livelihoods and get better working conditions.

    Automation has always been a threat to workers. Unlike humans, machines don’t demand higher wages and can work 24/7. The Luddites would go to factories and smash machines with anything they could find. In 2013, delivery drivers smashed and stabbed robots in a modern display of Luddism, not technophobia.

    While new technologies can lessen work time, they usually are used by businesses and governments for control. Think of the algorithms that Amazon uses to manage their workers’ work time and breaks. I used to work as a service worker stocking shelves. I would get up at six in the morning and work till noon, with only two 15 minute breaks. If I knew that a machine was tracking me to keep me working and not take an extra five minutes, then I would be the first to stab it.

    In working jobs where I had no autonomy, I would be forced to smile at all times and repeat the same mindless boring tasks over and over again. The greatest disappointment was when I saw my paycheck, feeling robbed by how little it was. A higher wage or longer breaks would have made me feel less angry, but a machine doesn’t care about breaks or paying rent.

    Even if automation didn’t make me lose my job, then it would still cut my hours and thus my pay. I’m a Luddite not because I hate technology or want everything to be the same. I like progress and embrace change, but if automation is going to happen then it must be for the workers to decide when and how to do it, and to distribute the benefits among the people.

    Until then, if I see a machine control my time or push me out of a job, I will keep shouting, “down with all kings but King Ludd.”

  • Freshman FOMO

    Freshman FOMO

    by Nina Hufman

    I recently had an internal crisis: I realized that I am nineteen years old and almost done with my junior year of college.

    I just got out of high school a year ago and I already have to be thinking about real life. I just started college and it’s already almost over. I am most likely going to do a second major and stay in school for two years, partially because I really want a second degree and partially because I feel so unprepared to graduate.

    I was lucky enough to be able to be concurrently enrolled in college classes while in high school. I started taking online classes from a nearby community college when I was a sophomore and was able to earn my Associate’s degree halfway through my senior year. I transferred to Cal Poly Humboldt at eighteen years old as a junior. While I am grateful to have been able to save money and time, my circumstances come with their own set of challenges.

    It’s really difficult to relate to my peers, because my experience is not a very common one. I have one friend who is in pretty much the exact situation that I’m in. She transferred as a junior right out of high school. We talk a lot about how we missed out on the freshman experience and how difficult it is to relate to people who haven’t been in our situation.

    I don’t live in the dorms, I don’t eat in the dining hall, and I don’t have to take any annoying GE classes that have nothing to do with my major. While most people would agree that these experiences are awful, they get to commiserate and bond with others over those experiences.

    All of my friends and the people in my classes are juniors and seniors. I went straight from being in high school to being surrounded by people who are, for the most part, actual functioning adults who have goals and life plans. I feel like I’m so far behind; they’ve had three or four years to figure these things out and I’ve had one.

    My friends also don’t want to do any of the fun Humboldt things that freshmen do when they move here. I want to go to the beaches, go hiking, and explore this beautiful area, but I don’t want to do it alone. My friends have been here for years, they’ve already seen and done all of those things.

    People are usually shocked when they find out my age. They hit me with ‘I thought you were at least 21,’ ‘you’re so mature for your age,’ and ‘wow, you must be really smart.’

    The reality is that I have been a mini-adult since I was fifteen because I had to learn how to interact with adults in my college classes. The result of this is feeling out of place literally all the time. I’m simultaneously too young and too old for everything. I’m ready to start my life and be an adult, but I also feel like I missed out on my own adolescence.

  • Gas prices are guzzling away my bank account

    Gas prices are guzzling away my bank account

    by Angel Barker

    When I started driving in high school, my mom and I had a deal that she would buy gas every other time I needed to fill my tank. Once I started driving upwards of 500 miles a week, that went away and I had to start paying my own way. To be fair, it was reasonable: I had a part time job and was driving a lot.

    I have a different part time job now that pays more. However, with the rising price of gas and how far out everything is in Humboldt county, it doesn’t make a difference. I am still spending an average of $300 a month on gas, and my car takes regular.

    On average (when I am not traveling) I only drive to work, school, home, and Eureka once a week for an appointment, and I time it right so I can get gas at Costco where it is the cheapest.

    I should also say that I am not a thief. I did not actually steal my mom’s Costco card, she knows I have it. It is her way of helping me pay for gas.

    I was sad in high school when I had to pay around $40 to fill up my tank. Now I am hoping and praying to pay that again. My car holds 16 gallons of gas, so with the California average of $5.91 per gallon as of March 29, it would take $94.70 to fill my gas tank if it was empty.

    That’s almost $100 to fill up my little mini SUV! I cannot afford to buy a hybrid or electric car, so I am stuck paying these gut wrenching prices. I used to go to Dutch Bro’s a lot in high school, and it is crazy to me that a gallon of gas is now more expensive than a Rebel or a cup of coffee. I know all of us are feeling this pain, and a little piece of my soul dies every time I go to the gas station.

    I recently took a road trip towards Redding and down to Modesto, and gas was cheaper everywhere, even in Paradise, the town that completely burned down in 2018. They are still rebuilding the city and there are only a handful of open gas stations, and they are still cheaper than here.

    The only place where it was the same price or 10 cents more was in a tiny town that was out of the way of everywhere. Humboldt is not a tiny town in the middle of nowhere, it is a whole county in the middle of nowhere. I am now realizing why it is called the Lost Coast, because no one knows about us and it is expensive as heck to get gasoline here.

    As much as I am complaining about gas prices, I am still going to pay them. What am I going to do, bike to work? No, driving already takes 25 minutes. It would take forever to bike, and I do not have the option to not go to work or school.

  • César Chavez Day with YES

    César Chavez Day with YES

    by Eddie Carpenter

    In honor of César Chavez Day, the YES program hosted a volunteer event at the Potawot Community Food Garden in Arcata. It had an amazing turnout with a whopping 40 volunteers in attendance, caressed by the sunny blue skies and the refreshing Humboldt breeze.

    We were assigned tasks by being divided into five groups. I was grateful to be a part of a group that planted beds of squash. We did everything from scratch, laying out layers of black cover material across the four rows to keep the weeds from robbing the plants of their nutrients. We also covered the tops of the rows with white cloth.

    Gardening skills have practical value in my daily life. Prior to this experience, I had been a volunteer at Potawot through a program called the Intertribal Agriculture Council. Potawat’s head gardener Ed Mata gave me a handbook about gardening and I was mentored by a professional development specialist named Elaini Vargas.

    Maybe I was a little rusty on the terminology, but basic knowledge about soil health has since been ingrained into the recesses of my brain. I learned in a soils class that if you live in a mild climate, it’s estimated that it took 200 to 400 years for 1 centimeter of the soil to form. Vargas’ and Mata’s teachings directly impacted the mindset I had going into the YES serve-a-thon on César Chavez Day.

    Youth Educational Services (YES) is a collective on campus that provides students with opportunities to volunteer at local school and community sites. One of their goals is to connect hands-on service and in-class learning with awareness of the injustices and oppressions experienced by those they serve. Actions sometimes speak louder than words. Making donations and saying nice things about a cause is totally different from donating your time and bodily energy to a cause.

    According to mentalhealth.org, helping others can possibly help make you happier as a person. Through volunteering, I was able to make temporary connections through teamwork and group communication. This gave me a sense of community and made me feel like I belonged to a noble cause.

    If you want to see change in your self-esteem, you might want to consider doing good deeds, so we can manifest the world into a better place. Indeed, an outward reflection of finding happiness can in turn make you a happy person.

  • I’m a first generation college student

    I’m a first generation college student

    By Mekiah Glynn

    My mother dropped out of college after one semester and my oldest sister dropped out of two different colleges within the span of two years. I am the definition of a first-generation college student. A third of undergraduates are first-generation, yet we hear very little about the perspectives of these college students.

    Luckily for the third of us here at Cal Poly Humboldt, there are a lot of resources for students who don’t have parents that know how to walk us through each step of college life. With mentors and workshops, Humboldt has helped me with the transition into college.

    Moving eight hours away from my hometown to Humboldt was already a big transition for me, but it was significantly more difficult as a first-generation college student who didn’t have a lot of people to talk to about college. My mother has supported me throughout all of this as best she can. Still, no one prepared me for the mundane things you have to go through in college that most students just know about, such as which meal plan to pick, what you really need for classes, and how to manage your time.

    Those questions were answered by my RAMP mentor for the most part, which was really helpful during the year, but less so before the year started, when I was signing up for classes, housing, and meal plans. During the summer before I started, the only resource available was my sister who is a communications major at UC Davis. She didn’t have much knowledge about a smaller college or classes for an environmental studies major. Because of this, my first semester was really rocky. I failed a class, edited my meal plan, and struggled with online college classes.

    The workshops about organization, mental health, and finding a job were really helpful mid-way through my first semester. The school’s resources weren’t directed at first-generation college students, but they were still helpful.

    Going into my second semester of college was a bit easier. I was more used to the day by day and was more aware of the resources that were available. It was still a struggle. I couldn’t ask my mom about things that I’m sure most of you could ask your parents without even thinking about it, such as questions about how to contact my professors or how to deal with a roommate.

    Being a first-generation college student is hard. The pressure of wanting to succeed where your parents couldn’t and the need to figure out a lot of it completely by yourself will never be easy. There can always be more resources put into place that could help out the third of us that are here alone, but I do believe that Cal Poly Humboldt does a great job trying to help.

    Make sure to check out the basic needs section on Cal Poly Humboldt’s official website if you need any help with mental health, housing, food, etc.

  • The rising cost of visiting Humboldt

    The rising cost of visiting Humboldt

    by Cheyenne Wise

    As May is fast approaching, so is the dreaded inflation of renting in Humboldt. During the year you can get a hotel room or rent an Airbnb for a couple of bucks. On spring graduation weekend, hotel rates double and even triple in price.

    It’s not something uncommon in Humboldt but usually, high prices make it hard to find a place to rent. It’s an opportunistic extortion to get college students to overpay for rundown places. Housing is first-come, first-serve but to take advantage of people who don’t have money is gross.

    For some people, this is the first and only time they can make the trip to Arcata, and it’s to see their family member graduate which is an incredible opportunity that shouldn’t be missed. Just checking the hotels near campus the usual cost of a hotel room for two people is at most $150 at any point during the year. But when you look at the same exact hotels during the week of graduation is $600 for two people a night.

    At Cal Poly Humboldt, about 78% of full-time undergraduates receive some kind of need-based financial aid. That’s 78% of people whose families might not have the ability to see them walk across the stage and be handed their diplomas. Hotels and Airbnb hosts take advantage of people who want to support their loved ones.

    Forget peoples’ families for a second. What about the people who are graduating and haven’t lived in the area for some time because of the pandemic, who are trying to find a place to stay so they can be there for their own graduation? It’s not just the issue of finding a place to stay. The prices of buying a cap and gown are so high for something you will only wear once and not for a long time. I guess you could say the same thing about a wedding dress, but even those are absurd.

    Maybe I’m just someone who likes to count pennies and is a bit of a pessimist, but the price of graduating is excessive. We’ve already shoveled a bunch of money into the burning money pit of college so it would be lovely to be able to step away from the flames and not have to worry.